s, and fruit, that were always set
out there on a wooden table, under a muslin awning; he remembered, too,
that they washed up their own bowls and spoons and plates, and, having
finished, went outside and drew themselves a draught of water. Queer
life, and deuced uncomfortable--almost Chinese in its reversal of
everything that every one else was doing.

"No," he said, "I'm not."

"I am. Here she is."

Felix felt his heart beating--Clara was not alone in being frightened
of this woman. She was coming through the orchard with the dog; a
remarkable-looking woman--oh, certainly remarkable! She greeted him
without surprise and, sitting down close to Tod, said: "I'm glad to see
you."

Why did this family somehow make him feel inferior? The way she sat
there and looked at him so calmly! Still more the way she narrowed her
eyes and wrinkled her lips, as if rather malicious thoughts were
rising in her soul! Her hair, as is the way of fine, soft, almost
indigo-colored hair, was already showing threads of silver; her whole
face and figure thinner than he had remembered. But a striking woman
still--with wonderful eyes! Her dress--Felix had scanned many a crank
in his day--was not so alarming as it had once seemed to Clara; its
coarse-woven, deep-blue linen and needle-worked yoke were pleasing to
him, and he could hardly take his gaze from the kingfisher-blue band or
fillet that she wore round that silver-threaded black hair.

He began by giving her Clara's note, the wording of which he had himself
dictated:

"DEAR KIRSTEEN:

"Though we have not seen each other for so long, I am sure you will
forgive my writing. It would give us so much pleasure if you and the two
children would come over for a night or two while Felix and his young
folk are staying with us. It is no use, I fear, to ask Tod; but
of course if he would come, too, both Stanley and myself would be
delighted.

"Yours cordially,

"CLARA FREELAND."

She read it, handed it to Tod, who also read it and handed it to Felix.
Nobody said anything. It was so altogether simple and friendly a note
that Felix felt pleased with it, thinking: 'I expressed that well!'

Then Tod said: "Go ahead, old man! You've got something to say about the
youngsters, haven't you?"

How on earth did he know that? But then Tod HAD a sort of queer
prescience.

"Well," he brought out with an effort, "don't you think it's a pity to
embroil your young people in village troubles? We'v